Convolute A (Apple Store)

The mall is the modern arcade. It teems with the modern archetypical figures of the window-shopper, the family, the teenager, etc. The brightest store in the mall is the Apple store. Outside the Apple store is a line of people waiting for the new iPhone. The release is hyped. They're next to a small vendor selling iPhone cases.

I, meanwhile, had a question. I had to inquire about the queue, but that was for the newly released product. I asked the last person in line about this subject. They directed me inside the store where I asked an associate (who was looking at his iPhone) how to order a new charger for a MacBook Air. He looked up from his phone and gave me advice that I already knew or could have looked up online. But, before one questions the value of these living conduits of information, one should take note that I would, sometimes, much rather take advice from a live person instead of parsing through the information online.

Speaking with an Apple Store attendant made me conscious of what extent we are people, what extent we are machines, and how frequently we navigate between the machine-human-world and the physical world. Walking into a store where someone is engaged in a remote world underlines the simplicity of this interconnectivity.